Well, this took forever. Sorry bout that.

This goes with some other pieces I've written, but can also stand on its own. Only info you'd really need to know: Will and everyone are in their senior year at Sky High. Warren's graduated. Battle broke himself and all the other villains out of prison.

And if you're reading this, thank you - it makes me ridiculously happy that anyone would be even slightly interested in reading something I've written.

Naturally Will was practically the last one there. His mother had insisted on flying him to school, which had meant no speeding, which meant that he was now late. Again.

On the first day too, he thought, skidding to a stop on the grass, managing to stay upright. He glanced around, running a hand through his hair. It was just handfuls of upperclassmen milling around now – great, he'd missed the first look at the freshmen. They were probably already in scheduling by now.

He walked towards the doors – out of the corner of his eye he could see Magenta and Zach, but they were rather occupied at the moment, so he gave them a wide berth.

Will raced up the stairs – maybe not as fast as Speed, but still, pretty impressive if he did say so himself – and yanked open the doors.

Except they didn't budge. Will stared down at the handle and pulled again. Still nothing. He looked around, was this one of those weird dreams where he didn't have his super strength again?

"Will!" a voice called out, and his head snapped around. Layla. There she was, waving at him from across the steps. "Over here!"

He walked over to her. Of course they had seen each other over the summer. They were neighbors. No, more importantly, they were friends. They were still friends. But, if he were to be truthful, it had mainly been a summer of avoidance.

It almost made one want to go back to school.

But now they were going to start seeing each other, talking to each other, eating with one another, on a regular basis again – starting with the very first minute. That, he had not been expecting.

"New security measures," Layla explained as he neared her

"What? Layla?" Will stammered. "What, what are you doing here?" he grinned. "I thought you would be giving tours to the freshmen."

Layla smiled back at him. "They're done with the basic tour now. They're all in scheduling."

He had known that. He had known that! Why did everything he said come out so stupid around her now?

"Oh." He concluded lamely.

"Besides," she continued cheerfully. "Someone has to explain the new code to everyone."

"New code?" Will repeated. "Yeah, what's with all this? Why do we need new security? It's a high school! And what the hell happened to those doors if I can't even open them?"

"You heard about the prison break Will," Layla explained. "Everyone's taking more precautionary measures now. Centers of super activity have always been targets – Sky High's been attacked before – and now there's evidence that super villains are banding together." She shrugged. "You can never be too careful."

Will shrugged too. "Sure. Although really, making it more difficult to get into school?" He attempted a joke. "I think they're over-estimating the seniors' motivation."

Layla grinned too. "It's really not that hard," she said. "For now, I just enter you in and give you your temporary code, and then after scheduling, they'll scan you into the system, so from then on you just have to have the doors scan your face before they'll open."

"Cool." Will said as the doors smoothly slid open. He started to step through. "So, uh, I'll see you around."

"Yeah." Layla said, waving as the doors glided shut. "See ya."


"I feel really old now." Ethan commented as they made their way down the halls, avoiding other dashing students, heading for their lockers.

"Dude," Will joked. "I think you have to wait until you're at least eighteen to get a mid-life crisis. You've got a few months left."

"I see what you mean," Magenta said, ignoring Will's comment. "Warren's graduated already. And we're going to next year. It's all coming so . . . soon."

"Yeah, we're seniors now!" Zach whooped. "We rule the school! We get to push all the freshmen around!"

"Zach!" Layla said reprovingly. "We're here to guide them, help them – not give them swirlies."

"Layla, I would never have done that!" Zach protested. "I'm just saying – hey, Will, who are you gonna partner up with in Save the Citizen now that Warren's gone, huh? Have you decided yet?"

"Uh, not sure." Will said cautiously, wondering if Zach was expecting himself to be named.

"I, for one," Magenta proclaimed, spreading out a hand to examine her nails. "Plan to not put in any effort in anything – classes, Save the Citizen, nothing. It's senior year – nothing even matters anymore!"

Will grinned, high-fiving Magenta, but his stomach sunk slightly. Maybe he could live in denial and goof off this year, but then that was it. Next year, things would matter, for real. Next year, if he wasn't good enough, there would be consequences.

"Senior year is still really important!" Layla protested weakly over their cackles. "Even if you're going to be supers, you still want to go to college, right?"

"Speaking of college," Ethan said, breaking off with Layla. "You want to go on some tours together soon?"

"That'd be great!"

Zach shook his head. "Losers. We're gonna be supers. What does college matter?"

"It matters, because it's going to rock." Magenta said with a glint in her eye. "Since it'll be our cover, it means all of the partying with none of the work."

"Seriously!"

"Yeah, seriously," Magenta said with a rare, happy laugh. "It was your sister who told me!"

"Oh," Zach's brow furrowed. "Well, she doesn't tell me anything!"

Will laughed along. "Still, sooner or later we're going to have to start acting responsibly."

"Oh yeah? Challenge accepted." Zach joked.

Magenta smiled. "Yeah. But not this year."


"Ugh." Layla huffed, staring at the slip of orange paper.

"What is it?" Zach asked, craning his head to get a better look.

"What's wrong?" Magenta calmly inquired.

"Is that one of those graduation slips?" Ethan asked.

"Yes." Layla sighed, putting it away.

Ethan's eyebrows raised sharply. "What? Layla! Why? What do you need to do?"

"I haven't taken one of the required courses." She explained, shrugging.

"Oh, that's not too bad." Magenta said, shoveling in a forkful of lasagna. "Which one?"

Layla's mouth dropped in disgust. "Basic Combat."

"What?" Zach asked. "Didn't you take that in tenth grade, with all of us?"

"No!" Layla said, shocked at the very suggestion.

"You'll be with all the underclassmen," Ethan said, shrugging. "But Magenta's right, it won't be that bad."

"Oh, no." Layla said, smiling, shaking her head. "No. I'm not going to take it."

They all stared at her.

"But Layla," Ethan said. "It's required. You have to, to graduate."

"I'm not going to." Layla repeated. "It goes against my beliefs."

"Come on Layla." Magenta said, rolling her eyes. "How do you expect to be a hero – sorry, okay, a super – if you don't know how to fight?"

"I want to be a super," Layla said primly. "Not a warrior."

"But," Zach said, his forehead furrowed. "You can't be a super, and not fight."

Layla's sandwich fell out of her hands back onto the tray. "Of course you can!"

"Maybe," Ethan conceded, "But you have to admit, it's not very practical."

Zach was grinning, as if expecting Layla to say 'just kidding' any moment. "Name one super that doesn't fight."

"That question is misleading!" She insisted. "Because of the way our society is, putting value on feats of strength and shows instead of actual problem solving, the supers who hit stuff are the ones who get the comic books and cartoons. Just because they aren't as publicized doesn't mean they aren't more effective!"

"Even if you don't want to fight, don't you think it's a good idea to at least know how to?" Magenta suggested, twirling a fork around by her head.

"Think of it as, like, a self-defense class." Will said. "It doesn't necessarily have to be about hurting other people, it's about protecting yourself. It's all about how you use it."

"Maybe." Layla said, although her tone didn't sound at all convinced. "I have an appointment at the office tomorrow – I intend to give Principal Powers a piece of my mind."

The others all looked at each other across the table with raised eyebrows and hardly suppressed grins, thinking they had a very good idea of how the conversation would go.

It was almost as if nothing'd changed, them all laughing in the cafeteria, poking a bit nervously at whatever food'd been plunked on their trays for the day and making fun of each other.

Except Will's eyes didn't meet anyone's when Magenta made a snide hippie comment – instead he only glanced up at an empty seat and he had to think about keeping his expression from falling.

This was his first year without Warren. It still didn't really seem real, this summer had been largely normal, just like any other. But now the gap was quickly becoming obvious. He kept expecting to see Warren around every corner, even though the rational side of his mind knew full well it wasn't coming.

Warren has moved on with his life. Of course he had. And Will was still here, for another year, just like he was supposed to be. Everything was going according to plan.

But that didn't stop it from feeling weird, from the jolt of shock at seeing some new face at Warren's locker, to there being an empty space at the lunch table.

Excepting the first few months, Warren had been there for him all throughout high school so far. Honestly, Will didn't know how to do high school without him.


"A cat up a tree?" Warren asked, his voice emotionless but his glare decidedly less so. "Seriously?"

"Yes." The middle-aged woman responded defensively, arms crossed across her chest.

"We're happy to help ma'am." Abby said with a large smile. "Your cat will be safe again in no time."

"Thank you." The woman quavered out, but her gaze still flickered suspiciously to Warren.

Warren shook his head, disgusted. "A cat? This is our mission?"

"Come on, hot-head." Abby ordered through her grin, steering him towards the tree. "A mission is a mission."

"This isn't a mission." Warren growled out of the corner of his mouth as he stalked towards the tree. Abby turned and gave a cheery wave back towards the woman before staring up at it as well.

The cat was high up, a swatch of black between the green. It showed no inclination of even attempting to get down.

"How are we supposed to do this?"

"Why'd they send us?" Warren asked. "The fire department could do this."

"Maybe I could build some stairs out of ice, and one of us could climb up and get it down." Abby ventured.

"Yes, that sounds very safe." Warren said sarcastically. "Ice stairs."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"We could burn the whole tree down."

"I'm serious."

"So was I."

"Do you want to ever get another mission or not?"

Warren exhaled. "Our powers aren't going to be much use here. We'll have to climb the tree. Here, get on my shoulders."

"We'll?" Abby asked, frowning as he knelt down. "Seems more like 'I'll'." But she climbed onto his shoulders, and managed to cling to a tree branch, hoisting herself up.

Warren stepped back, watching as she scaled the tree higher, closer to that cat. He glanced back at the woman scrutinizing them. How had supers gotten this job anyway? Wasn't this what the fire department was for? He waved once at her. She just stared. He put his hand down. Civilians.

Abby had made it up to the cat's level. "Here kitty!" she called out, beckoning for it. It simply stared at her. She made some clicking noises with her teeth. "Here, kitty kitty kitty!"

Warren, very professionally, held in his urge to snicker or smirk.

The cat didn't even deign to glance at her. Abby stared back down at Warren, her eyes clearly conveying her frustration.

"Now would be a good time to tell me you're secretly an animal person." She suggested.

Warren shrugged up at her.

She continued her cat noises, and the cat finally glanced at her – and then promptly turned away again. Abby carefully slid a foot closer, trying to inch herself closer to the offending creature, but the whole branch shook and the woman watching gave a small screech as her precious pet wobbled dangerously. Abby returned to her perch.

She sat there for a moment, then looked down at Warren again. "You want to try?" she asked.

"I'm even bigger than you are, there's no way I'd be able to get out there." Warren stated, arms crossed.

"Alright then." Abby said, clutching the tree. "I guess we'll just take the whole branch down."

"Sounds good." Warren said.

There was a sparkly mist for an instant, and she formed an icicle in her hand, poised it over the branch, beckoning for the cat one last time.

"Come on." Warren called up to her. "It's not moving." They'd wasted enough time on this stupid assignment already.

"You're gonna have to catch it." Abby called back. "Are you ready?"

Warren raised up both hands. "Not doing anything else.", and fixed his eyes on the branch.

With a practiced motion, Abby raised her hand and brought it swiftly down, effectively breaking the branch off of the tree.

The wood cracked and snapped, the cat yet out a distinctly inhuman yowl, its claws only digging tighter into the branch, and the civilian let out another utterly useless scream.

The branch had been high, but it plummeted the distance to the ground in less than a second. Warren lunged forward a step, nabbing it before it made contact – and then it burst into flames.

Warren cursed, instantly dropping the branch – he hadn't meant to light it on fire, he didn't know what had happened – he must've unconsciously heated up his hands.

The cat was yowling, the woman was screaming, Warren desperately tried to put out the fire with his hands, trying to smother it, but setting fires was his thing, not putting them out.

"Warren!"

A voice pierced through the chaos, and Warren managed to look up for a second to see Abby gesturing wildly.

"Get the cat!" She shouted, scrambling down from the tree. "I can put out the fire!"

The cat was yowling, sounding as if it were possessed, spazzing around on the grass. Warren kicked the branch further away from it and crouched down, trying to calm it, if just to get close enough to put out the sparks, but it clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Honestly, Warren couldn't blame it, but he didn't have time for this.

It was a slippery thing, but Warren hadn't suffered through four years of P & E for nothing. He managed to bodyslam it to the ground, locking the creature in a chokehold with his elbow.

Suddenly, the fires were out, replaced with little piles of hail. Warren glanced up. Abby was crouched on the ground, panting. She zapped another group of sparks smoldering near the base of the tree, then turned back to Warren.

"Got it?"

Warren rose to his feet, holding the thing up. It dangled by the tail, glaring with half-hearted hisses, far from the fluffy snowball it had been just a few minutes ago, its charred, blackened fur was burned off in patches and was giving off a smell of burnt popcorn.

A wail suddenly emitted from behind him, and Warren slowly turned around. The woman shrieked louder, running several steps towards Warren and her precious cat, then stopping a safe distance away.

"Is he alive? What did you do to him!"

"You're cat's fine." Warren growled. At least he'd damned well better be, after all the trouble they'd just gone through to save him.

"You – you –" The woman stammered through hands covering her mouth, eyes skittering between Warren's face and her beloved pet, whose shock was gradually wearing off and was beginning to make signs of struggle again. "You burned him!"

"It's fine." Warren said flatly, with a menacing undertone. "It's its own fault it got a little burnt. It wouldn't get out of the tree."

"I know that! That's why I called you!" She shrieked.

"Calm down, we got your cat out okay!" Warren snapped.

"Okay! That is not okay! He's half dead!"

"He's not half dead!" The claws were beginning to come out, so Warren tossed the creature towards her. It landed with a yowel, but on its feet, and she scrambled to clutch it to her chest.

"You poor baby!" She crooned, cradling the animal like a child. Her expression changed drastically as she looked back up at the pair of them. "I could have called the fire department to handle this! In fact, maybe I still should!"

"You called us to get the cat out of the tree." Warren growled, slamming a fist into his palm. "Look – there, you have your cat back – what's wrong now!"

"What's wrong! What's wrong is that you mauled the tree and blasted my cat with a fireball! That's what's wrong!"

"Ma'am?" Abby said tentatively, taking a small step forward. Warren crossed his arms furiously. "Would you like us to take your cat to a veterinarian clinic, to make absolutely sure he's unharmed?"

"I would not!" She snapped, turning so the cat was further away from them. "I think you've done quite enough!"

"Look lady," Warren snapped. "I don't know what you were expecting, but we got your cat out of the tree, and it's fine! You're overreacting! It's a cat!"

"Listen up hotshot!" Her eyes were boring a hole straight through his throat.

"Maybe –" Abby tried to pipe up again.

"No, you listen!" Warren demanded. "We came here to help you. Our job is to serve you. You don't get to lecture us on how everything isn't done to your satisfaction, when we've done it all for you!"

"Not to my satisfaction!" Her high pitched laugh came out more as a screech than an expression of mirth. "It wasn't done at all! You consider yourself a super? You nearly killed my cat – and could have burned down the whole neighborhood! The situation was clearly out of control! You're lucky he wasn't killed!"

"I am a super!" Warren shouted back, outraged. "You don't have any idea how we work – what!"

He looked down abruptly at something tugging at his arm, to find that Abby had crept up next to him.

"We're sorry. We hope you're cat's alright. We'll be leaving now." She said firmly, looking at the woman.

Warren wasn't sure if it was just his fury, or if there actually was steam rising off of him.

"Good riddance." She called out to their retreating backs. "I'll be calling your superiors! You're lucky I don't sue!"